We're still friends, right?
by GeekyChic123
Summary: After their first confrontation in weeks, Natasha has to go see her partner and get a proper answer to her question.


Natasha tossed and turned in her bed, alert to every noise of the night outside her closed window. More aware than usual of the weapons she kept under her pillow, and around her bed. She was always careful, always on guard. But now thing were different, because in the last few weeks everything had changed. The world had become a much more dangerous place where most all of the people she trusted, her team, a man she thought was her friend, and the man to whom she owed her life had all picked to fight on the side that Natasha was against.

It had been a long time since Natasha had lived a life where Clint was not fighting alongside her. And it destroyed her to admit how much she wished he was with her in this fight. Because she was Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, and she did not need anyone with her because the whole world was already against her.

Except- it was different, because yes the world had been against her, but her partner never had been. And she had gotten used to that, grown comfortable in the trust she placed in him. And now she felt his loss as keenly as if someone had cut off one of her hands.

She rolled over in bed yet again, acutely aware of the empty space next to her that Clint normally occupied. In so many different beds, in so many places. Before missions, at HQ, in hospitals, at Stark tower, at Barton's farm, no matter where she was Natasha always slept better if he was at her side. So that meant she hadn't had a decent nights sleep in exactly two weeks and four days.

Before today, the last time she had seen Clint had been at the event. When Stark had proposed his big idea, he and Cap had fought their big fight, and when what had once been a single team had been split down the middle into two opposing sides.

It had felt like a punch in the gut when one by one most all of her friends had chosen Cap's side. When Clint, had chosen his side.

He hadn't chosen right away, unlike most of the Avengers who had practically ran to claim their leader. Or Captain, as the case may be. Strike Team Delta had slipped away from the fighting, and arguing, wanting to discuss this matter in private. At the time Natasha had thought it might be time to step away from the Avengers, and the media, and the mess that was going on right now. That maybe the two of them would just take this opportunity to run away and never come back. They had talked about it before, although deep down both of them knew they could never stop fighting. Never give up on repaying their debts they owed to the world.

The two of them had gone to one of their apartments, and as soon as they had started talking, they were fighting. Before long they were shouting at each other, insisting the other was wrong, fighting deep into the night. Clint saying it was wrong to track the power and location of every super hero, Natasha insisting this was what the world might need right now. Clint had eventually stormed out in a rage- Natasha had been mad, but was sure he would come back. Because he wouldn't side against her. Because THEY were a team themselves, nothing could come between them. Certainly not something as stupid as a dumb registration act.

Then the next morning, there on the news was Captain America, stating why he felt the registration act was a bad idea, and why he was against it. Behind him, were most all of the New Avengers. The team Natasha had helped train, the people she had begun to think of as friends. And also- there, next to Steve, looking like he had just lost his best friend, was Clint.

He didn't say anything. This was Steve's time to talk. But seeing him up there next to Captain America was enough for Natasha to understand her partner was absolutely no longer on the same side as her.

Before Steve's announcement was over, Natasha was calling Stark, asking what their counter attack should be.

Natasha had always known that she and Clint had a few ideas that didn't quite line up, she had just never thought one of those ideas would ever come between them like this. The problem was that Natasha was sure she had chosen the right side, just like Clint thought he had. No matter how much they fought about, or discussed this matter, neither could change the way the other felt about this issue.

But they hadn't even discussed it. Not since that night, when he left. They hadn't contacted one another since then- Until today. Although Natasha didn't think fighting with someone to prevent their team from getting their hands on a crucial hard drive quite counted as contacting them.

Why couldn't he see this the way that she did? The registration act was a good idea, Natasha hated to admit when Stark was right about something, but he was right about this. How many incidents could have been stopped if every person with super powers had been monitored in the past? How many lives could have been saved?

Because when it would be awful to be monitored, to have someone always know your location, and what your abilities are? In the end it would be worth it. Because heroes aren't the only ones who would be affected by this act. Super villains, people with good ideas that turned bad, gods and monsters, aliens, everyone that was a possible threat would be registered. Hell, if Stark himself had been registered that whole mess with Ultron probably wouldn't have even happened. How could Clint not see that in the end this act would bring about more good than bad?

But, he was adamant in his stance. Just as the two assassins fought each other physically, both in the past, and during training, now they were fighting emotionally, each refusing to give in and admit the other might be right. Refusing to contact each other, show that maybe they were weakening, thinking of changing sides.

It was a stupid game they were playing, and Natasha had had enough of it. Because damn it, she missed him. So much that it hurt, it was a constant ache in her chest. She was constantly turning towards him in battle, automatically heading towards his old room at Stark tower at night, and again and again reaching for someone in her bed who wasn't there anymore.

She refused to change her side, or admit Clint might be right. Because he wasn't. But maybe, she could pay him a visit, and for a few fleeting moments things could feel okay in the world again. No, that was stupid. It would bring nothing but trouble if she went to talk with him. But, maybe she could just go see him. He would never have to know. Besides, the conversation they'd had today, the first one in weeks, kept running in circles around her mind.

It didn't take long for her to get dressed, and sneak out of Stark Tower. It was tricky to break into the building, even for her, but breaking out was a different story.

She moved quickly through the dark night, she hadn't bothered to take a car because if Clint was where she thought he was, hoped he was, it wasn't too far of a walk. And if he wasn't there? Well, it wouldn't be all that hard for her to acquire some means of transportation.

Natasha walked through the streets of New York, avoiding the scarce clumps of people she encountered, keeping her head down. She was an expert at blending in, going unnoticed, but now that her image was plastered over the media every day it was harder to go unseen in a crowd. Not impossible, just, more difficult.

Before long, Natasha was outside of an older run down apartment building. It was in a busy part of the city, a good place for two people to go unnoticed. It was the first safe house the assassins had acquired together, posing as a couple when they rented it. It was one of Natasha's favorite places she had ever lived. One of the closest things that she had to a home.

Her mind flashed through the times they had patched one another up here after missions gone wrong, nights where they were off the job and just stayed in here watching cheesy old movies. Or the time when the events with Hydra happened a few years ago, and she came here, hoping against hope Clint would be waiting for her here in this apartment.

He was.

Now she moved around to the side of the building, and swiftly scaled the fire escape. A part of her brain was telling Natasha this was a dumb idea. He probably wasn't even here, he didn't even want to see her. She was risking a lot by coming here, if Stark found out, he would never trust her again. Well, not that he trusted her that much anyway. But if he knew she had come here nothing wold convince him that she wasn't some kind of double agent. The rational part of Natasha's brain was telling her to turn around, go back to the Tower.

But the dominating part of her brain, the part that made her stomach flip and heart pound at the thought that she might see Clint in a few minutes?That part of Black Widow's brain urged her faster up the stairs, helped her fingers quickly and easily pick the lock on the window leading into the apartment.

Natasha stepped lightly as she entered the room. This place was as close to a home as she had ever really had, or at least a place where once she had been happy. She hated that now she was breaking into it, like the criminal of the night that she truly was.

It was pitch black in the apartment, Natasha's heart was pounding in her chest. She should leave. She didn't want to. If she could just see Clint, that would be enough. And then she'd be gone in the night, no one would ever have to know that she was here.

Natasha entered the bedroom (his bedroom? Their bedroom? She didn't know what to think of it as now.) And though it was dark, and she could hardly see the bed- She knew he was here.

Her eyes adjusted rapidly to the lack of light. Clint's clothes were strewn around the room, bows were stacked in the corner, arrows were everywhere. Not in a creepy "I need to be surrounded by weapons" way, more in an "I am Clint Barton and I am a lazy slob" way.

Natasha ignored most of the mess, grimaced as she picked up a half full cup of coffee from the dresser. It was a piece of furniture they had found in an antique store when on a mission. She had mentioned liking it and Clint had gone to buy it after the job was over. There was a ring from the mug on the wood now, Natasha made a mental note to buy coasters. It took a second for her to remember that she didn't live here anymore, that it wasn't her place to tell Clint not to leave cups on the furniture.

She was just going to look at him for a minute, and then she was going to leave. Natasha told herself this, yet again. It wouldn't do anyone any good if he saw her here- If anything it would probably lead to another fight.

But the assassin stepped towards the bed, not making a sound. And suddenly, Clint stirred in his sleep, opening his mouth. He wasn't fully awake but he spoke, "Natasha..."

Then he opened his eyes, just a bit, and saw she was there. And she didn't know if he pulled her down next to him, or she was the one who moved towards the bed, but suddenly they were wrapped in each other's embrace and Natasha couldn't think about leaving.

And she was stupid for thinking this apartment was the closest thing she had to a home, because that was a total lie. Clint was her home, he had been for a long time, and at one point she thought he always would be. It wasn't until he was next to her that Natasha realized how much she missed him. It was now that Clint was soothing the ache of missing him, that she realized how deeply that pain had been consuming her.

They didn't speak, just stayed locked in their embrace for a few long silent moments. There were so many things Natasha wanted to say right now, but she couldn't get the words out. She was overwhelmed by emotion, all she could do was cling to her partner, and wish she could go back to the way things used to be between them.

But even though she was happy to be here with him now, she knew that things could never be quite the same. Even if tomorrow Stark and Rogers made up, and went skipping through a field of daisies together holding hands to prove they were on the same side, Strike Team Delta had been fractured. Splintered down the middle. Things were never going to be the same between them again, but Natasha couldn't resist the wistful part of her heart saying that at least things could at least not be bad between the two of them in the near future. That maybe they could somehow fix this, and not become enemies like their teammates had done.

They were not fighting yet, he wasn't questioning why she was here. That was a good start. Clint was kissing her now, that was even better. What they'd had before was still broken, but these stolen moments were making Natasha think maybe in the future they could still fix this. Because even though he had essentially betrayed her, chosen to fight on the side opposing hers, she still trusted him. Still thought of him as her best friend.

She still loved him. Probably always would.

Natasha pulled away from his kisses, and buried her face in his neck. The question she had asked earlier, before they fought one another, the question that kept running around in her head, and had kept her up tonight, was forcing it's way past her lips. For the second time that day.

She spoke quietly, the words were muffled but she knew he heard them. "We're still friends, right?" Clint said nothing, but pulled her closer to him. It might have been just a few seconds before he spoke, but for Natasha the time seemed an eternity.

Earlier he had replied with a joke, it seemed he found the situation morbidly comical. And then they had fought, she carried the bruises from that fight now. And they had parted, and since then she had been wondering what the real answer to her question was. Because when you asked someone if you are still friends, you really don't want their answer to be "depends on how hard you hit me."

He kissed her again, and she didn't resist because honestly his kisses were her oxygen, and for the last couple weeks she had been suffocating without them. Clint rested his forehead against hers, and stared into her eyes. "You are my best friend. And- I just- I miss you so much. It's killing me, and, shit I'm bad at saying stuff like this. But I'm glad you're here. And I'm sorry this is happening. I just- I don't know what to do anymore, what's right or wrong. Everything is just so messed up." He tangled a hand in her hair, a familiar gesture that sent chills down her spine in the best possible way. She had t focus to hear what he said next. What do you think Nat? Are we still friends?"

She closed her eyes, and emotion welled up inside of her chest. He was her best friend, her savior, maybe the only man she would ever really love. So many words were pressed against her lips, but somehow Natasha just couldn't get them out. All she could do was nod her head, "Yeah you idiot….. i still think we're friends."

And then it was all she could do not to cry, because she didn't know what was going on or what the future held, but Clint was holding her, and for this moment things felt right in the world, and she had no idea if anything could ever feel ok like this again. But she could worry about that later, tomorrow, because right now she was with the man that she loved, and nothing was going to come between them.

Not right now.

Not tonight.


End file.
